Pain and Pleasure
by BlueEyes444
Summary: Bellatrix likes dominance.


**Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter._**

**_This is rated a high T. Might eventually bump it up to M._**

* * *

Bellatrix is just settling into bed when a woman's laugh erupts from somewhere on the other side of her bedroom door.

She frowns. It's not unusual for her parents to host guests but at three in the morning?

Could it possibly be Mrs. Lestrange here to discuss wedding plans? She's only met the woman a handful of times so she's not entirely sure but it could very likely be her here. Her future mother-in-law is known for being...for lack of better word...eccentric. So showing up so early in the morning would not be strange for her.

Quickly, she gets up, pulls her dressing gown before pulling a comb through her hair. If it Mrs. Lestrange, she must make a good impression, must show that the Blacks are everything that the world believes that are. A perfect family. Though they are very far from it.

She slides on a pair of slippers before making her way to the door. Opening it, the fifteen-year-old is surprised to find her father standing down the hall a little ways, talking to a woman that is defiantly not Mrs. Lestrange.

The woman is petite, small, dressed in a leather outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, can't be much older then herself.

She doesn't recognize her, but just from what she sees, she's not impressed.

"Bellatrix, what are you doing up?" Her mother seems to be appear out of nowhere, dressed in her own long dressing gown.

"Who is she?" Bellatrix demands, eying the woman with distaste.

Her mother sighs, presses her lips tightly together, obviously trying to figure how to word something. "Your father has needs...that I can't give him," she says, finally. "Ms. Wood can."

Bellatrix sneaks another look at the woman her mother refereed to as Ms. Wood. "Is...she a prostitute?" The word is strange and bitter on her tongue but she tries not to let her mother see it. Must be sophisticated.

Her mother frowns before shaking her head. "No." She pauses, quickly looking at her husband. "She is what is known as a dominatrix."

Bellatrix has never heard of such a thing but she doesn't question it. There's a time and place for everything and this is not it.

She nods. "Goodnight, Mother." With that, she quickly steps back into her bedroom and closes the door.

"Dominatrix," she says to the dark once she's back in bed. The word tastes foreign but not at all unpleasant, like one of her mother's wines.

"Dominatrix," she repeats.

She decides she likes the sound of it.

* * *

She writes a letter to Amelia Hart, an old friend from her Hogwarts days, the next day.

If anyone knows what a dominatrix, it's her.

Though Amelia has never spoken about it, everyone knows that her father likes certain things outside his marriage. Though Bellatrix has no idea what kind of things, a dominatrix does not seem out of the possibilities.

She gets a reply later the same day.

_Bella, a dominatrix gives pain and pleasure, for a price._

Bellatrix reads the short reply over a couple times before ripping it up and throwing it in the fire, watching the flames eat the pieces up.

Pain and pleasure?

Oh, how exhilarating.

She does love pain and pleasure.

* * *

She has a hunch that Ms. Wood will show up again and she's proven right three days later when she's awakened again in the middle of the night.

Laying there, she tries to figure out what she heard when she hears it again. It's the unmistakeable male moan of pleasure.

Pain and pleasure.

She instantly gets up, pulls on her dressing gown before she even knows she's done it.

_Pain and pleasure._

If Bellatrix is good at anything, it's pain and pleasure. Especially the pain part.

She creeps out of her bedroom and starts following the sounds.

Ever since she's read Amelia reply, she can't get Ms. Wood's profession out of her head. She must know more. And who else better to tell her then the dominatrix herself?

The moans stop and she finds herself without a compress. Damn it. She's not about to lose her chance. She must find where they are.

She turns around a corner and runs right into Ms. Wood.

Stumbling, Bellatrix catches herself from falling. The bitter retort she's about to say dies on her tongue when she finds herself looking at quite the cleavage.

She licks her lips, turns her gaze away, takes a moment to remember what she was about to say. She can smell sweat and sex and it's stimulating.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," Ms. Wood says. Her voice is silky and she is by far the most beautiful woman that Bellatrix has ever laid eyes on.

"That's fine," she says, wetting her suddenly dry lips. It's hard for her to gather her thoughts. "I...I want you to teach me, show me."

Ms. Wood leans close, running a hand down Bellatrix's face."What I do?"

Bellatrix suddenly finds it hard to breath, can't get enough air in her lungs. She's never reacted this way to anyone before and she doesn't understand it."Yes."

Stepping back, Ms. Wood studies her with a critical eye before she offers a smile. "I would like that. Like that very much."

* * *

It's been six years and Bellatrix has made quite the name for herself in the world she plays in. Nothing gives her the satisfaction, not even serving the Dark Lord, of leather, and chains, whips and crops.

She likes having people beg for mercy, likes the power she has over them, likes being called mistress. Nothing compares to that. Nothing at all.

"What the hell is this?" Andromeda asks, voice coming out higher then it normally is. She takes in the masks, chains, leather, whips, all of Bellatrix's toys.

Damn it. She hadn't realized her sister followed her back from Diagon Alley.

They had run into each other there, and for Bellatrix, seeing Andromeda, brought up her betrayal, and the hurt and the fact she choose a stupid, silly boy over her, her own sister. Even after all this time, it still hurts.

"You really shouldn't snoop, Andromeda," Bellatrix sneers, pushing Andromeda out into the hallway. She slams the door behind them, blocking the view to her secret world she has hidden away from prying eyes.

Her sister doesn't say anything, just stares at her with judgment and accusing eyes.

"Nobody has the right to judge me. Especially you, you filthy Mudblood lover," Bellatrix snaps before going back into the room and closing the door.

Turning around, she stalks over to one of her leather catsuits and runs a hand down it, instantly feeling better.

Dominance is something she can control, something she knows will never leave her for a filthy Mudblood boy. Dominance is something that will never fail her. Not like her sister did.


End file.
